


Set Among the Stars

by starzangelus



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Angst, F/M, Gen, Humor, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:18:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1257673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starzangelus/pseuds/starzangelus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Captain Swan drabbles inspired by prompts submitted on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Under The Rain

She shuddered, feeling his cool fingers slide gently against her skin. Slowly, almost reverently, he lifted her shirt, exposing the smooth expanse of hers stomach.

"Killian, please…"

"Shh," and his mouth covered hers once again.

Their lips bruised against one another, tongues tangling for dominance, as the rivulets of water ran freely across their face. Their rain-slicked bodies were crushed against each other, pressing together with urgency, becoming one. The witch was dead, everyone was safe, and for a moment, this one moment, she would have this, grasp it with her fingertips and never let it go.

It didn’t matter that they were out in the open, that the ominous clouds were streaked with lightning, the electricity cackling in the air, that the bark against her back pushed painfully against her cuts, or that they could be discovered at any moment. None of it mattered. They were here and they were now and she could finally breathe him in, take up his essence, bottle it up inside her heart and treasure it until the end of time. 

After an eternity, where Emma wasn’t sure if she would ever feel her limbs again, he looked up, gazing into her eyes, beseeching and tender. “Tell me what you need, Swan.”

Emma was never one to express herself fully with words, preferring to show with actions what she wanted to say. She took his head between her hands, bringing it gently to her breast and whispered, “I want you, only you.”

A flash of lightning illuminated the sky, as if confirming the truth of her words, and the thunder that followed seemed to affirm the trembling of their aching bodies. As clothes were shed and lips were met, as wandering hands discovered new places and bodies finally joined, as the earth moved and the ground shuddered, the rain fell. 


	2. Breaking the Rules

_Slap_.

"Now wait one minute. None of them were face cards."

"Yeah, but it’s a sandwich. See?"

"Oh, hell."

"I told you, sandwiches and doubles are fair game, too."

"You’re making it up as you go along, Swan."

"I am not."

"You’re winning anyway, I don’t see why continue to try to best me."

"Just shut up and put your cards down."

The game continued. The occasional slap and snicker permeating the air as Emma laughed when he would lose more of his cards. He would pout childishly and she would lean over and kiss him, despite knowing that he was doing it on purpose. After a while, when Emma had accumulated almost most of the deck, he made a comeback, slowly gaining back the cards until they were almost even again.

"It seems your luck has changed, Captain." 

He grinned back at her. “It seems it has.”

Her stack continued to get smaller and smaller and irritation began to grow bigger and bigger, and—Emma was not one to brag—but she was an  _excellent_  card player and there was no way that she was going to let someone who had learned the game only an hour ago beat her. 

She put more force into her slaps, more speed as she placed her card down, but still, almost every time he put a card down, she would place a single card of her own and—

 _Oh, hell no_.

"Hook! You cheated!" she screeched, poking him hard in the chest.

His face was the perfect picture of absolute innocence. “My darling Swan, you wound me.”

"You bastard! You keep using the same card! You just used the Jack five times in a row! That’s impossible!"

He grinned, waggling his eyebrows and waving his hook in front of his face. _"Pirate."_


	3. Safety First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Cobra go grocery shopping!

"Ramen noodles? What the blazes are Ramen noodles?"

Henry sighed, wondering if he would have to go into the twentieth reiteration of why certain foods came in more than one brand. "They are a type of noodle. They are pre-made and easy to cook."

"Soup is already easy to prepare," Hook said, eyeing the packages with distaste.

"They are good, I promise. Mom said she wanted ten. Get the beef and chicken. No, that’s shrimp-flavored. Yes, the red ones. Okay. What’s next on the list?"

"Tampons."

The elderly lady standing next to them frowned at Hook, shook her head and walked away, nose in air.

"Huh," Henry said. "Then to the women’s aisle we go."

Hook, despite protests from Henry, pushed the cart, weaving easily between customers and aisles. They approached the feminine aisle and the other-worldly pirate stared at the boxes and packages in wonder, occasionally reading out the brand names.  _Always, Stayfree…_

Henry placed a large pack of tampons into the cart, startling Hook out of his reverie. He gazed at the ( _still)_ leather-clad pirate in contemplation, eventually coming to a decision.

"Follow me," Henry commanded, leading them both to the end of aisle where a collection of colorful boxes decorated the tall shelves. He read the titles thoroughly, occasionally picking a box and reading the description on the back, until finally settling on a black pack with gold lettering. He placed the box in the cart.

"Uh, what are these?" Hook asked, gingerly picking up the box. "Trojan?"

A couple nearby snickered. Henry rolled his eyes.

"They’re condoms," Henry said, as if that explained everything.

"Condoms?" Hook raised a very confused eyebrow.

Henry stared at Hook for several moments, head cocked in the way that he knew made him look exactly like Emma and David. “You don’t use condoms?” he asked, eyes wide in disbelief.

"I have never heard of them, young lad."

"But you and my mom. I mean, don’t you guys have sex?" Henry blurted out loud, gaining the attention of several customers in the vicinity.

Hook shuffled his feet, eyes wide, and cheeks turning a very bright shade of pink.

"Are you blushing?"

"No!"

"Yes you are!"

"Lower your voice!"

"You’ve been sleeping with my mom and don’t use protection?" Henry whispered.

"Look, lad," Hook whispered back, trying to ignore the lingering looks of the customers. "I am not sure you are old enough to discuss—"

"I’m twelve, Hook, not stupid. Are you telling me that  _you_  didn’t know about sex at my age? Plus, I know that you and my mom sleep together. You stay over all the time! I know how to put two and two together.”

Hook sighed, resigned, and looked bashfully down at his hook. “And are you okay with that? Does it bother you?”

"What?" Henry asked, and then he understood. "No, of course it doesn’t bother me. You and my mom love each other."

"I am relieved, Henry. Thank you."

"No problem. Now let’s go home."

As they walked out of the grocery store, hands filled with bags, Hook looked down at the young boy that considered like a son and asked, “These  _condoms_  that we bought… what are they for?”

Henry grinned. “You know what they say, Captain. Safety first.”


	4. Stars

The room was silent, save for the small, quick breaths of the occupant sleeping peacefully.

"Are you sure he will be all right? What if we don’t—"

"It will be fine. He sleeps a full five hours now. And this—" she lifted the small device she tried to explain to him earlier, "—will tell us if he wakes up."

"Walkie talkie," he said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Baby monitor. But the same concept, yes."

"I don’t know, Emma. I would feel more comfortable if he—"

"Oh god, Killian he is  _our_  son and is perfectly able to sleep by himself. Plus,” Emma whispered, lips grazing his ear. “I will make it worth your while.”

She felt more than saw him grin. “Is that so?”

"Mhmm."

"So you’re saying that we can finally…"

"Yep."

"Then who am I to deny the lady?"

"Come on, pirate. Time to search for some hidden treasure."

"Oooh…"

Bending over to kiss their son goodnight, he grabbed her hand and practically dragged her to the door. They were giggling like schoolchildren and she stopped him before he could pull past the door-frame.

"Wait. Let me turn off the light."

As Emma flipped down the switch, looking at Killian out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction, she watched with fascination as his fiercely expressive eyes grew wide with wonder.

"This is… how did…"

"Henry helped me place them the other day. He knows all about navigation now, thanks to you, and he has this idea that he wants to be an astronaut now. Funny, really, considering that he has literally traveled through the stars."

"It’s beautiful, Emma."

"I know," she said, unable to look away from him. The ceiling to their son’s bedroom was filled to the brim with glow-in-the-dark stars, positioned as accurately as possible to display the major constellations of an autumn sky in the Northern Hemisphere. They varied in shape and size and for a moment, Emma forgot she was on Earth and not floating through the heavens.

"I thought that him being your son and all, he would appreciate what his father loves."

He looked away and gazed down at his wife’s face, eyes shiny with unshed tears. “I love you, Emma. More than there are stars in the sky.”

She pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you, too.”


	5. Can You Hear Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Captain Charming goodness.

"Hello? Hook? Come on! Wake up!"

"Wuh…"

"Hook? Hey, Hook! Can you hear me?"

There was a slight tingling on his face as he felt a warm hand slap him repeatedly. The voice was hazy yet familiar but the darkness was so much more pleasant and the back of his head was killing him…

"Honest to god, Hook, if you don’t open your eyes, I will kill you."

"Guhhh."

"Goddammit, Hook! I am not playing! Get up!"

The rousing scent of alcohol filled his nose and then the cold sting of water hit him right in the face and he opened his eyes…

"Seven buggering hells! What the fuck!"

David loomed over him, blue eyes glaring at him in contempt. “Really? Dreaded pirate captain for over three hundred years and at the sight of a little cervical blood you pass out?”

He had no idea what the prince was talking about. “What?”

David rolled his eyes. “Do you remember why you’re here, Hook?” he asked slowly, as if talking to a small child. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Take a moment and think about the last thing that happened before you swooned like a princess and clocked your head on the bed frame.”

And then he heard it, the faint wails of a child…  _Oh, gods_ …  _Emma_ …

With a burst of adrenaline, he rose from the floor quickly… and then hit his head against the metal frame… again… dropping coldly back down to the floor.

David groaned, shaking his head at his son-in-law who was on his back in hospital scrubs, looking dead to the world. He stood up and looked fondly at Emma, and then at his newborn granddaughter. “I am so sorry, my princess, but your father is an idiot.”

The baby cried harder. 


	6. Tears

Emma watches the broad line of his chest rise up and down, the gentle curve of his Adam’s apple bob back and forth, the graceful arches of his lips open and close as he murmurs sweet nothings into the stillness. The soft glow of the moonlight filters sensually through the curtains, illuminating his handsome features and she sighs wistfully.

Another tear glides down his cheek and she wipes it away tenderly. 

The music ends and he opens his eyes, removing the headphones from inside his ears, and he smiles down at her in awe. “That was wonderful,” he says in a dazed wonder.

She nods and places the iPod down on the coffee table. “I thought you would like it. I’m more of a rock and pop girl myself but I like a little bit of everything.”

"Do you have more?"

"I can get more."

"I would like that."

"Come on," she says, tugging him up from the couch. "Time for bed."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The piece he is listening to is Chopin’s “Nocturne, opus 27, no. 2”)


	7. In the Storm

"Are you kidding me? No way! It will kill us!"

"It is the only way, Swan! Trust me!"

"It’s a goddamn tornado!"

"It is a portal, I assure you!"

The dark swirling vortex loomed closer, ripping apart every structure in its path down to the foundation, debris flying about wildly. It was thick, about half-mile wide, snaking ominously into the strangely white sky. 

Emma cringed back in fear. “Hell no.”

Hook squeezed her hand in assurance. He looked down at her and gave her a hesitant smile. “Do you trust me?”

She didn’t even blink. “I trust you.”

"Then when I tell you jump, you jump, all right?"

Emma swallowed, bright eyes wide and anxious. “Okay.”

He nodded back kindly.

Their hair and clothing whipped around them in a wild frenzy and Emma began to feel her feet rising from the ground. She tried desperately not to panic. “Oh, how I wish I had the power to control the weather right now!”

Hook grinned down at her and Emma wondered for a moment if he was insane. “There is a witch in a faraway kingdom who possesses such a power! It was a bloody marvel to watch! The entire female line of the royal family are blessed with the ability to manipulate the weather!”

"So like Storm from the X-Men?" she shouted back.

"What?"

"Nevermind!"

The twister drew closer. They barely managed to stand upright.

"This is it!" Hook yelled, gripping her hand firmly. "Get ready!"

"I’m ready!"

"Jump!"

Emma drew in a deep breath, and jumped.


	8. Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The witch takes a prisoner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M for violence and disturbing images.

"You are  _very_  pretty, my darling.”

"I am not  _your_  darling, you barmy wench.”

"Oh, I do believe you are," she said coldly, running a sharpened, ruby nail down his chest, enough to draw blood. "You are mine until I say that you aren’t." She tugged at the chains around his neck and twirled them until they choked him. "Tell me, _Captain_ , where are they keeping the boy?”

Her voice was sickly sweet, almost soothing to the normal ear, but he recognized the predator behind the sound, the feral animal caged in before it was released for the hunt. He had been a hunter for over three hundred years and understood the patience required for such a feat.

"I have already told you. I have no idea where the boy is. Has your unnatural pallor made you dense as well?"

She slapped him across the face with enough force that the chains around his wrists and waist loosened from the stone wall behind him. He spit blood on to the ground harshly and glared back at her as defiantly as he could, head lolling back and forth against the wall.

She smiled back cruelly. “I won’t ask again.” 

"And my answer shall remain unchanged."

She conjured his hook out of thin air and waved it casually in front of his face. “You know, I have always wondered what a man of  _honor_ , such as yourself, is made of.” She glided the hook down his stomach, tearing his clothing. “I would hate to make such a rash decision.”

"Really?" he asked scathingly. "You could have fooled me."

"Your sarcasm is rather grating, Captain."

"I could recite a monologue of what grates me about you, sodding witch."

He screamed in agony, writhing futilely against his chains as she dug his hook into his shoulder and twisted it until it was pierced all the way through, the point embedded into the wall. He panted in uncontrolled gasps, trying desperately to retain consciousness as his sight blackened around the edges.

"That was impolite, my pretty Captain," she said sweetly into his ear. She licked it and he shuddered with disgust, retching and choking on his own blood. "I guess I’ll just have to kill you. What a shame."

She yanked his bloody hook out of his shoulder and then brought it to her mouth and licked it. “ _Tastes good_.” She raised it into the air and stared deeply into his eyes. She giggled and it rang painfully across the tower. “It is a pity.”

He closed his eyes, waiting for the fatal blow, trying to conjure one final image in his mind: one of bright green eyes with a small smile and golden hair…

"Back away from him, bitch, or I will end you."

And then there she was, standing resplendent in her red leather jacket, sword held firmly in her hand, and brilliant eyes furious and wrathful. She was absolutely stunning and his barely beating heart skipped a joyful beat. He knew she would find him. “Swan…”

The witch stood up in all her regal and wicked glory and laughed loudly. “Oh please, as if you could make it close enough to graze me.”

Emma cocked her head to the side and to his amazement, smiled. “No, but this can.”

With the speed that could have rivaled that of his beloved ship, she whipped out her pistol and aimed it at the Wicked Witch. 

The single shot that echoed throughout the tower was music to his ears.


	9. Seeking Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> daddy!Killian goodness

“ _Papa_.”

Killian came to awareness wearily, eyes blinking into the darkness. A small hand tugged at his harm insistently.

"Papa, please wake up."

In an instant he was sitting upright in the bed, covers falling to his waist and he grasped the small shoulders in front of him. “Liam? What’s wrong? What happened?”

Terrified blue eyes stared back at him. “I’m scared, Papa.”

Now with the traces of sleep cleared away, he was alert and on guard, surveying his surroundings and keeping an open ear to the darkness. Behind him, he heard the gentle breaths of his wife and his tension eased. He looked down at his son in puzzlement. “What’s wrong, Liam?”

Liam bit his lip, nostrils flaring in the way Killian knew he was trying to hold back his tears. “Can you come to my room?”

Killian sighed in relief. It was probably a nightmare. Liam was nearly eight but the terrors of a nightmare haunted at all ages. “Of course.”

Taking him by the hand, he led his son back to his room and they sat gently on the bed. Liam tugged at the hem of his blanket, frowning and occasionally taking deep, shuddering breaths.

"Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes it helps if you talk about it. Dreams can be quite cruel if you allow them to fester in your mind."

Liam shook his head and sighed. “No, it’s not that.”

"Then what is it?" Killian asked, forehead crinkled in confusion.

"I don’t feel good."

Killian pressed a hand to his son’s forehead. “You do feel a bit warm. Are you hurting anywhere?”

Turning away in embarrassment, Liam nodded. “My stomach. I feel… I feel like I’m going to be sick and I don’t like it. I want it to go away.”

"Well, sometimes it helps if you do—"

"No, no! I don’t want to! I hate being sick!"

"Shh! Shh! You’ll wake your mum and your sisters," he said, running a soothing hand through his son’s hair. "It will be okay."

Liam burst into tears, lips trembling and eyes wide with fear. “Can you just stay with me, just in case? I’m scared. I don’t want to be alone.”

Killian smiled, nodding in understanding. He wrapped his arms around his son, hugging him to his chest. “Aye, Liam. I’ll stay.”


	10. Rejection

"Bloody wench!"

"Oh my god, Killian, she’s thirteen years old! You can’t call a little girl that!"

"I don’t care, Emma! Did you see his face? Did you? He is  _heartbroken_. He bared his soul and she laughed at his face!”

"They’re kids, Killian. Kids say and do stupid things."

"By that age, one should have the civility to carry polite conversation. She didn’t have to be so tactless!"

Emma sighed. They sat in the living room, trying to ignore the pounding feet that echoed from upstairs. “I agree but she is still a little girl. We can’t expect her to react rationally.”

Killian rolled his eyes and then sighed. “I just don’t understand how she could lack the simple decency to reject him gently. Very bad form.”

Emma smiled, reaching out to twine her fingers with his. “Well, not everyone can be so honorable. It takes many years of work to build such character.”

He snorted but said nothing, eyeing the ceiling warily as another stomp was heard.

"He’ll be okay, you know."

"I know." He cocked his head at her and grinned. "Our lad is a brave one. Brilliant like his mother and handsome like his father. The lass was blind. Spitting image of his father, our son is. How could anyone resist?"

Emma rolled her eyes. “And just as charming, I’m sure.”

"Aye," he said, kissing her temple gently. "Just like his mother."


	11. Happiness

"There now, lad. Just a whiff, you see… that does it… right under the nose… Now, what is it you smell?"

"I don’t smell anything."

"Bah! Nonsense! The candle does not lie! It is you who must see. Close your eyes and try again… what do you smell?"

"I smell… it smells like… It smells like leather. And flowers."

"Hmmm… What kind of flowers?"

He frowned, forehead creased under dark, messy bangs. “I don’t really know. I think they smell like those,” he said, pointing to a bunch of white flowers. 

"Ah, those be jasmine. Relaxing scent. Flowery, you might say." She chuckled but it sounded like a cackle. He didn’t like it. "What else do you smell?" she prodded, pressing the candle closer to him.

He scrunched his nose. “I don’t know what that is. It smells so odd. I have never smelled it before. But it also,” he took a quick sniff, “smells like sugar? No… like cinnamon. I’m not sure. It’s sweet and bitter at the same time.”

"Hmmm," she said, raising a thin eyebrow. "Anything else?"

This time, he took a deep breath. “It smells very… I’m not sure. I can’t describe it, but it reminds me of my brother. I don’t know what that means.”

"That makes sense," the woman said, but he didn’t understand at all. She was very old, older than Mrs. Thornton even, with white scraggly hair and a very pointed nose and was dressed in a long, red dress that clung to her loosely. He didn’t like her and he wanted to go away but she had beckoned him over to her stand and told him she would give him a gift. He had yet to receive anything and now he was getting annoyed.

"I have to go," he said, and it was true. They had been at port for two days now and the ship was set to leave at noon. His brother had recently been promoted to Naval Lieutenant and had procured him a job on the ship as a cabin boy. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to live on a ship but it was better than living on the streets and at least he could now be with Liam.

"I hope you enjoyed my gift, Killian," the woman said, smiling widely, showing her large, luminous white teeth. 

Killian’s eyes widened in disbelief. “H-how did you know my name?”

"I know many things," she replied cryptically.

"Are you a psychic?

"I see things."

"Like the future?"

"Something like that."

He gawked at her, bewildered. What if she was a witch? He was intrigued but Liam always said that people who claimed to have magic were nothing but charlatans. Killian wasn’t so sure. “I must be on my way, then. Thank you for…” he gestured wildly at the candle. “Thank you.”

He turned around and began to walk through the market stands quickly, gaining as much distance from the strange lady as possible. 

When he finally reached the docks, he gazed at the grand ship that would now be his new home. It was not one of the more bigger ships he had ever seen but it was elegant and beautiful and it belonged to the Royal Navy. 

As he stepped on to the ship, nodding sagely at the crewmen, the woman’s words whispered inexplicably through his mind…

_"Boy, would you like to know what your happiness smells like?"_


	12. Family

"You have  _nothing_. You have no one. You are  _nothing,”_ he sneered, breath rank and puffing hotly against his face.”You killed your mother and your brother. And what’s her name? Malia? Mala? That tavern wench you fancied yourself in love with. You killed her, too. Everything you touch dies, Killian.” He spit at the ground, as if cursing it. “You are nothing.”

Killian stood stock-still, good hand at the helm in a death grip, glaring with hatred at the man in front of him. It was like looking in a mirror: clear blue irises that seemed to penetrate to the soul, dark hair and muscular build, imposing stature that commanded presence wherever it saw fit. Even the crinkling around the eyes was the same… Yet, the eyes—though identical in color—were the marked difference: one pair were cold and without depth, and the other full of passion and rage.

"Get… off…  _my_ … ship,” Killian gritted through clenched teeth. “Or I will throw you off it.”

The man grinned widely, and Killian was shocked at how familiar the expression was. Beside him he heard a shocked gasp.

"Hook," Emma said gently, tugging at his bad arm and grasping his hook fiercely. "You know that’s not true."

The man cocked his head, letting his eyes roam over her form in appreciation. “Quite the treasure you found there, son.”

"I am not your son!" Killian snapped back, now seething with unconstrained fury. He unsheathed his sword and raised it at the man’s throat. "Now get the hell off my ship!"

"Are you going to kill me, son? The way you killed your mother? Barely out of the womb and you murder the woman who gave you life, the woman that I loved! My life! And now you seek to kill me, too, because that is what you are, Killian! You are nothing but a killer!"

He didn’t see at first (because by then he had been blinded by rage, and his vision had turned nearly black) but suddenly his sword was by his side as he stumbled slightly backward into a broad, sturdy chest, and then an arm came from behind and steadied him. 

"Relax, Hook," a deep voice said near his ear. "Just breathe."

He was so stunned that he failed to notice how Emma had placed herself in front of him, blocking him from the man… his  _father_.

"Ah, so she has claws," his father said, eyeing the gun pointed at his face. "I can see why you like her." He licked his lips lasciviously. "Very good form, my son."

Killian tried to move forward but David’s hand on his shoulder held him firmly in place. “You shut your filthy mouth!”

"No," Emma said, cocking her gun more securely. "It’s okay. Let him finish. I would like to see how far he gets before my bullet make it through his head."

The man tilted his head back and laughed uproariously. “Oh, this is precious!” He gazed back at Killian, eyes glittering with cruel mirth. “Letting your whore fight your battles, now, son? How pathetic.”

"Shut the fu—"

"He’s just goading you, Hook," Emma interrupted, voice clear and calm. "He’s trying to get a rise out of you. He thinks he’s being clever and that by pushing all your buttons he can get you to attack him first. It’s really quite juvenile. And… _pathetic_.”

His father’s entire demeanor changed, and for the first time, Killian felt afraid as the man who he had spent centuries hating for abandoning him stepped forward to stand face-to-face with the woman that Killian loved.

"You would defend him, that miserable excuse of a man? Do not let his angelic face deceive you, love," the man said, spittle flying at her face. "Behind the nicefaçade lies the demon. A black soul full of wrath that it taints the very air it breathes until it suffocates you and then you die, too.” He turned glaring eyes at Killian. “If you knew of his sins, you would not be so keen to—”

"I know what he’s done," Emma replied, tone bored and impatient. "Please skip the stupid ‘I’m a villain’ monologue and get to your damn point because my finger is getting slippery."

His father gazed back at her, surprised, appraising her. “Now that is interesting,” he said, and Killian thought he heard genuine fear in his voice. “You really would defend him, wouldn’t you?”

"I would."

"Fight for him? Die, perhaps?"

Killian bristled. David’s hand tightened, still attached to his shoulder.

"Yes," Emma replied without hesitation. "That’s what friends do." She looked back at Killian and then at her father with a tight smile. "That’s what family does." She looked back at his father and he heard the sound of the safety click off. "Now get the fuck off his ship."


End file.
